THE THREE GRACES DUET 1: SOMETHING ELSE, SOMETHING AMAZING

The Three Graces Duet 1:

Something Else, Something Amazing

by Nia Farrell

 

(Books One and Four in the series are available as single titles.)

Duet release date January 2, 2020

Free with Kindle Unlimited

Amazon Universal http://mybook.to/TGD1

Amazon US https://www.amazon.com/dp/B083F3LPQ4

Goodreads http://bit.ly/TGDuet1GR

BookBub http://bit.ly/TGD1BB

Welcome to fictional Posey, Minnesota, the per capita ménage capital of the USA. Three women live here whose names all mean Grace. Grace Murphy, Anna James, and Rachel Givens share their stories in books 1-3 of the series before the men take over and tell their side of things in books 4-7.

The individual novellas in The Three Graces Series are available as single titles but six of them are now paired as the duets they were meant to be. This is the first of the three duets—she said/he said written from Grace Murphy and Nico White’s points of view.

Something Else (The Three Graces Book One) is written in Grace’s voice. 

Teasers and excerpts http://bit.ly/TGB1WP

Grace Murphy is the local psychic medium who dreams of her soulmates—Nico White, a bisexual American Indian musician, and J.T. Santiago, an ex-Navy SEAL and former cage fighter with PTSD on top of the guilt that he’s still carrying from other lifetimes that they’ve shared.  J.T. is a Dominant, but he’s never had a male submissive and Grace and Nico are a package deal.  It’s a learning curve for all of them, with J.T.’s initiation into MMF and MM relations and Grace’s introduction to BDSM.  With Grace’s yin, J.T’s yang, and Nico’s center balance, the three of them come together as far as J.T.’s PTSD will allow.  But forging a future will mean healing the past, however painful it might be.

An interracial paranormal MMF ménage BDSM erotic romance, this book is written as a standalone, but the epilogue ends with a teaser for the second book in the series.  Contains explicit sexual content, written for mature readers.  Ages 18+.

Reviewers: “It’s part paranormal, part BDSM, part love story, but all good….” “Imaginative and sexy” “A likeable, strong heroine and two very hot heroes” “I am a strong believer in psychic abilities so for me this book was a HOME RUN! I loved the storyline and the sex – WOW – talk about HOT!!!” “Jam-packed with just about everything a reader can imagine (and fantasize about)!…Nico is…hotter than hot! …J.T. is a total alpha and literally makes the pages (and your panties) sizzle.

Something Amazing (The Three Graces Book Four) is written from Nico’s point of view. 

Teasers and excerpts http://bit.ly/TG4WP 

Nico White is a bisexual American Indian musician and a shaman who has visions of his soulmates. In his dreams, there are always three of them—two men and one woman who reincarnate together again and again. He meets psychic medium Grace Murphy first, but it’s six months more before they meet J.T. Santiago, an ex-Navy SEAL and former cage fighter with PTSD on top of the guilt that he’s still carrying from other lifetimes that they’ve shared. It soon becomes clear that the reason they’re together again is to help J.T. heal.

J.T. is a Dominant, but he’s never had a male submissive and Grace and Nico are a package deal. It’s a learning curve for all of them, with J.T.’s initiation into MMF and MM relations and Grace’s introduction to BDSM. With Grace’s yin, J.T’s yang, and Nico’s center balance, the three of them come together as far as J.T.’s PTSD will allow. But healing the present means remembering the past, however painful it might be.

An interracial paranormal MMF ménage BDSM erotic romance. The book shares some scenes with Something Else (The Three Graces Book One) told from Nico’s point of view and includes additional scenes. Contains explicit sexual content, written for mature readers. Ages 18+.

Excerpt 1:

J.T. notices my submissive traits.  I keep my eyes down and let the two men lead the conversation, listening more than talking.  And I notice his Dominant traits.  He pays attention to my needs, making certain Cherry finally brings the glass of water that I ordered when we first got here and asking if my burger is cooked the way I like it.  He compliments my hair, my flowing New Age dress, and asks me the standard getting-to-know-you questions.

I tell him where I was born, where I went to school, where I work, where we live.

“You need to come out,” I tell him.  Please, please, please.  “It’s too cold for swimming, but on warm days, the fish still jump.  Or we could kayak.”  We have two, but a neighbor has several that he rents to campers, fishermen, and the occasional waterfowl hunter looking for a better way to retrieve downed birds.

Nico seconds the notion.  “Sure,” he says, lifting his beer in a toast.  “Bring your stuff.  Spend the weekend.  You can have my room.  I’ll take the couch.”  His choice of words reminds J.T. that, so far, we are only friends.

Hopefully, that’s about to change.

The warmth in Nico’s eyes makes me wonder if he’d rather share his room—his bed—with J.T. alone.  It would let the two men bond before adding me to the mix.  The trouble is, I can’t get a handle on J.T.  What’s he up for?

I need J.T. to want us.  Both of us.  I want what I’ve seen.  What I’ve dreamed about.  The three of us sharing a bed together, sometimes with me between, sometimes with Nico.  When we looked at properties, a master suite large enough for a California king was at the top of our list.  So far Nico’s been sleeping there alone, just him and those big, talented hands of his, fisting himself into oblivion.

But I can almost hear J.T.’s doubting Thomas.  The man doesn’t trust himself.  I sense the same darkness he does, the part of him that makes him afraid he’ll cross a line and hurt someone.

Wounded spirit.  And not just in this life.

Nothing that simple.

Nothing that easy.

Not that healing PTSD is ever easy.

Suddenly, I see him, struggling, hurting, lost.  Crippled with “soldier’s heart” in an alternate-reality past life that we shared, he’s also suffered shell shock in wars that he fought without us.  With the vision comes the knowledge of why we are here this time.  To help him mend.  To help him heal.  He’s been trying to dispel the darkness when he needs to embrace it.  Harness it.  Learn to live with his shadow self.

I can almost feel his collar on my neck and see the ink on Nico’s.

Excerpt 2:

The Pumphouse is hopping. The line’s out the door, and the temperature is dropping now that the sun is behind City Hall. When Grace shivers, I take her shawl, wrap it and my arms around her, and pull her back against me. The top of her head fits under my chin. Inhaling deeply, I smell the light fragrance of her shampoo and honeysuckle on her skin.

“Mmm,” she breathes, relaxing against me like we’ve known each other forever, not just eight hours or so. “I’m going to have to apologize to Anna. She tried to get us together before this, but the timing never worked out. Between fairs on weekends, readings in the evenings, and my job at THE Bookstore, I haven’t had much time for myself. Have I told you that I’m glad you came?”

“You can tell me again,” I assure her. “I’m glad that you’re here, too, Grace. At long fucking last,” I add pointedly, whispering in her ear.

Just when I think she can’t get any cuter, she giggles.

She turns her head to whisper back, “I thought you were going to say, ‘But I haven’t come. Yet…’” She falls silent, all traces of humor gone, the instant she feels me swelling against her back. “Nico?”

I fight the urge to grind my hips into hers. If she had any idea of how badly I want her and how roughly I’d like to take her, she’d be freaking right now.

“Grace. Sweetheart. Don’t. Move. Otherwise, they’re going to get dinner and a show.”

We’ve already attracted attention as the only male/female couple in line. I see at least one former sexual partner in the queue, but David’s not interested in a mixed-gender ménage. An all-male review is more his style, and the more, the merrier.

“Sorry. Sir.” The first word tells me that she understands. The second lets me know what her psychic radar’s already picked up on me. I’ve never discussed BDSM with Anna. We keep things platonic between us and pour our passion into our music.

“Good girl,” I tell Grace. “I can see we’re going to get along just fine, but you do know we’re missing one, right? If your dreams match mine, you know there are three of us.”

“Yes, Sir,” she whispers. This time, when she trembles, it’s not from the cold.

“Have you met him?”

“No.”

“Me, neither. Soon, though. Don’t you think? Now that we’ve met, surely he’s close.”

“I hope the hell so,” she breathes. “I was starting to think I missed you guys, that I’ve been saving myself for nothing.” She goes quiet for a moment. “I don’t have any experience. Will that bother you?”

“Ah, Grace.” I bury my nose in her hair and nuzzle the top of her head. “Once he gets here, we’ll give what you can take, and take what you can give.”

She’s shaking now. I can smell her arousal. If I slip my hand between us and cup her s&x, I’m certain that she’s sopping wet, the crotch of her leggings soaked with her juices, imagining what it will be like to be taken by two men.

Or one man, while he takes me.

 

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The Three Graces Duet 1: Something Else, Something Amazing out 2 January 2020

The Three Graces Duet 2: Something Different, Something Awesome out 3 January 2020

The Three Graces Duet 3: Something More, Something Precious out 4 January 2020

 

THE THREE GRACES TRILOGY (Something Else, Something Different, Something More)

THE THREE GRACES TRILOGY:

Something Else, Something Different, Something More (Second Edition)

by Nia Farrell

Length 61,047 words.  Expanded second edition release date December 1, 2018.

Amazon Universal Link e-book   FREE with KU  Amazon US e-book  

Goodreads (second edition) reviews

 

The Three Graces Trilogy includes Books 1-3 in the seven-book series.

SOMETHING ELSE (Book One, click on the title to see teasers)

Grace Murphy is the local psychic medium who dreams of her soulmates—Nico White, a bisexual American Indian musician, and J.T. Santiago, an ex-Navy SEAL and former cage fighter with PTSD on top of the guilt that he’s still carrying from other lifetimes that they’ve shared.  J.T. is a Dominant, but he’s never had a male submissive and Grace and Nico are a package deal.  It’s a learning curve for all of them, with J.T.’s initiation into MMF and MM relations and Grace’s introduction to BDSM.  With Grace’s yin, J.T’s yang, and Nico’s center balance, the three of them come together as far as J.T.’s PTSD will allow.  But forging a future will mean healing the past, however painful it might be.

An interracial paranormal MMF ménage BDSM erotic romance, this book is written as a standalone, but the epilogue ends with a teaser for the second book in the series.  Contains explicit sexual content, written for mature readers.  Ages 18+.

 

SOMETHING DIFFERENT (Book Two, click on the title to see teasers)

Singer/songwriter Anna James is getting desperate.  Even with a day job, money’s tight, and she’s wound tighter yet, having sworn off sex to reconcile with her mother who’s in chemo and her father who disowned her for her wild, wicked ways.  No sooner than her psychic best friend predicts an end to Anna’s self-imposed drought, rock stars Jackson and Jacob Thomason come to town, with the dream of an indie album co-written with local American Indian flutist Nico White and his songwriting partner AJ McPherson. 

The triple-platinum artists are attracted to Anna, who gives as good as she gets.  Learning that Anna’s alter ego AJ puts the “twist” in Nico’s “tribal” music only makes them want her more.  The part-Comanche Thomason twins need an album’s worth of songs.  That means spending night after night, working closely, getting to know each other, learning how to co-create. 

Anna’s never written music with anyone but Nico.  Their collaborations are so natural, so organic.  They’re comfortable with each other.  The Thomason twins, who perform as No Mercy, make her anything but.  What’s a fangirl to do, when submitting to her rock star idols means exploring the darker side of passion?

A BDSM MFM ménage erotic rock star romance, written for Ages 18+.

Contains advanced BDSM and may contain triggers.

 

SOMETHING MORE—2016 Golden Flogger Finalist for Best BDSM Book of the Year (Book Three, click on the title to see teasers)

Loving a biker and his adult film star brother came at a terrible price. Taken by a rival gang, beaten beyond recognition and sexually assaulted, Rachel Givens saw a chance to survive by claiming the identity of the other girl who was taken and killed. She spent months recovering from her physical injuries but still struggles with PTSD. Add her three-year-old autistic daughter to the equation, and Rachel (now Rae Simmons) has her hands more than full as she makes a new life for them in a quiet little town.

When her former lovers walk into the restaurant where she works, it’s clear that the Colson brothers have come for more than the plate lunch special. Once Rachel gladly submitted to their domination, but she hasn’t been with a man since her ordeal. She has triggers and issues and a daughter whose needs come first. Cord and Cam don’t care whether or not Hannah is theirs. As far as they’re concerned, Hannah is Rachel’s and Rachel is theirs.  They’ll do whatever it takes to convince Rachel that they belong together.

This newly expanded edition of a 2016 Golden Flogger Finalist is a BDSM MFM ménage erotic romance with adult situations and potential triggers. Written for Ages 18+.

Excerpt 1—from Something Else:

J.T. notices my submissive traits.  I keep my eyes down and let the two men lead the conversation, listening more than talking.  And I notice his Dominant traits.  He pays attention to my needs, making certain Cherry finally brings the glass of water that I ordered when we first got here and asking if my burger is cooked the way I like it.  He compliments my hair, my flowing New Age dress, and asks me the standard getting-to-know-you questions.

I tell him where I was born, where I went to school, where I work, where we live.

“You need to come out,” I tell him.  Please, please, please.  “It’s too cold for swimming, but on warm days, the fish still jump.  Or we could kayak.”  We have two, but a neighbor has several that he rents to campers, fishermen, and the occasional waterfowl hunter looking for a better way to retrieve downed birds.

Nico seconds the notion.  “Sure,” he says, lifting his beer in a toast.  “Bring your stuff.  Spend the weekend.  You can have my room.  I’ll take the couch.”  His choice of words reminds J.T. that, so far, we are only friends.

Hopefully, that’s about to change.

The warmth in Nico’s eyes makes me wonder if he’d rather share his room—his bed—with J.T. alone.  It would let the two men bond before adding me to the mix.  The trouble is, I can’t get a handle on J.T.  What’s he up for?

I need J.T. to want us.  Both of us.  I want what I’ve seen.  What I’ve dreamed about.  The three of us sharing a bed together, sometimes with me between, sometimes with Nico.  When we looked at properties, a master suite large enough for a California king was at the top of our list.  So far Nico’s been sleeping there alone, just him and those big, talented hands of his, fisting himself into oblivion.

But I can almost hear J.T.’s doubting Thomas.  The man doesn’t trust himself.  I sense the same darkness he does, the part of him that makes him afraid he’ll cross a line and hurt someone.

Wounded spirit.  And not just in this life.

Nothing that simple.

Nothing that easy.

Not that healing PTSD is ever easy.

Suddenly, I see him, struggling, hurting, lost.  Crippled with “soldier’s heart” in an alternate-reality past life that we shared, he’s also suffered shell shock in wars that he fought without us.  With the vision comes the knowledge of why we are here this time.  To help him mend.  To help him heal.  He’s been trying to dispel the darkness when he needs to embrace it.  Harness it.  Learn to live with his shadow self.

I can almost feel his collar on my neck and see the ink on Nico’s.

Excerpt 2—from Something Different:

There are six feet three inches of male heat on my back when I grab one of the reusable glass bottles and close the refrigerator door. He bends down to murmur in my right ear; his nose nudges the row of hoops that rim it as his breath dances over my skin. “I don’t know where you went,” he says, “but I sure as hell hope you go there again–and take us the fuck with you next time.”

I catch myself leaning toward him, like I’m drawn by a goddamn magnet. There’s no denying I want them. I’d just like an idea of how this needs to go down. Before I give myself a chance to chicken out, I flat out ask him, “Do you two do everything together?”

“Yeah. Pretty much.” He lifts his hand–the one that has L O V E tattooed on his fingers–and strokes my arm, leaving gooseflesh in his wake. “If you know our music, you know us. It won’t be gentle, and it won’t be quick, but I can fucking guarantee we’ll give you the best sex of your life….”

If anyone else called me kitten, I might take offense.  But the Spanish rolling off his tongue has an oddly erotic appeal.

Now I’m curious.  “Kitten?  You want to tell me where that came from?”

“Ever try to catch a feral cat?” he asks me, sliding his hand up to my shoulder and flexing his fingers around it.  “Even a kitten will shred you to ribbons.  But you’ve got the spice to go with the claws, don’t you, gatita?”

Shit.  The temperature in here just raised ten degrees.  Needing to chill, I twist off the lid, slam back a mouthful of cold spring water, and nearly die of brain freeze.  “Fuck fuck fuck!”

Jackson chuckles.  “That’s the plan.”

“Since when?”  I stop rubbing my forehead long enough to throw a look over my shoulder.  I flick my eyelashes at him, daring him to flirt some more.  We kind of skipped that part when we went straight from heated looks to promises of three-way kink.

“The diner,” he says.  “You gave as good as you got.  You sounded like you could handle us.”

“Mmmm.  My hooker voice.  And how did I look?”

I’m fishing.  He knows it.  I know it.  We’re both aware it’s not a deal breaker, but his answer could put a whole new spin on things.

“Like you’d dare anything.  Risk anything.  You were…hot,” he rumbles.  “So fucking hot.  I wanted to drag you into the back and bend you over a sink and—”

“Spank me?”

“Is that what you want, brat?”  He underscores the last word with a slap on my bottom, his tone full of menace.

I shiver, and not from the chilled bottle that I’m holding against my chest.

“Ah,” he says, sounding pleased.  “Then here’s a word of warning.  A little sass gives us an excuse to get creative.  Disrespect us, or anyone else, and we’ll keep you on the edge so long, you’ll be begging us to put you out of your misery.  No Mercy,” he whispers, turning me to face him.

Up close, his tats are even more amazing.  I’ve never wanted ink, but I’ll gladly give his some serious consideration.

“If you’ve wondered about the band’s name, there it is.  From a former groupie when we were still performing as The Thomason Twins.  She had a sweet little pussy, but she wouldn’t watch her mouth.  When she figured out we’d never let her come, she moved on.  The bitch lasted four weeks.  It was the longest fucking month of my life.”

I can’t help it.  Lifting my free hand, I palm his chest to feel his piercing and his nipple peaks against it.  I drop my gaze and see a distinct tenting of his jeans.

Impressive.

“Yep, I feel your pain.”  Slanting him a look, I wonder if they were thinking music and hoping for more when they bought me an excused absence.

If he’d known, would Kirk have given me time off work for bad behavior?

Not that it matters.  I’m theirs, or will be.

Excerpt 3—from Something More:

Cam scoots his chair around.  When I step between his feet, I’m facing him and, across the table, Cord.  I lean forward, nuzzling Cam’s ear, watching his brother, remembering what it was like to have them both inside me.  The plus-size dildo they bought to use while Cam was gone was a poor substitute for the real thing.

I catch his earlobe with my lips, caging it with my teeth and gently tugging.  My mouth slides down, following the line of his jaw to the center of his chin.  He was clean-shaven this morning, but Cam’s beard grows so quickly, he usually shaves twice a day.  Right now, there’s sandpaper abrading my skin, making my lips ultrasensitive.

I glance at Cord, who’s watching us with the intensity of a hawk in a fresh-cut field, who knows that patience is a virtue well-rewarded.  I just don’t know how prison has affected his control.  Telling myself that I’d better not test it, I give my full attention to his older brother.

Cam smells like I remember him, ocean breeze and woodsy musk.  I suck on his lower lip, hear the telling intake of breath, and know his body’s response.  I’ve seen it too many times on screen and in person.  He can go from flaccid to fully hard in seconds flat and can maintain an erection pretty much all night.

The memory jolts me, and I realize there is a tiny, tiny chance that my daughter is his.  He usually took my mouth or my ass, but in a marathon session the night before the last time he left, he had all of me, every way that he could take me, with and without Cord, who was still there, watching, when he wasn’t joining in.

I wonder what he thought when I said that he couldn’t be Hannah’s father.  Was he hurt, thinking that I could so easily forget?  Or did he realize the horrors that followed mere days later messed with my mind?

“I remember,” I whisper against his mouth.  “This.  Us.  I remember….”  It’s why he needed tested, too.  Oh, God.

I kiss him.  Open mouth, tongue thrusting, hands fisting in his hair, bent on ruining his hundred dollar cut.  Forgive me.  Punish me.  Take me.  Don’t hurt me.  My mind is a maelstrom, but my body is on fire.

The bag of peas falls to the floor.  Rather than fisting my hair and pulling it like he used to during kink, Cam winnows his fingers in my pixie cut.  If he rubs my scalp, he’ll feel the scar from the surgery, done to relieve the pressure on my brain.

My pussy throbs, outer lips engorged, inner folds getting wetter by the second.  I feel a terrible emptiness in my womb.  My breasts ache, hurting almost as much as they did when my sick baby Hannah slept through her feeding time.  I long for what once was.  For the three of us together, sharing my childhood home. 

I wonder what Cord did with it.  Except for the thousand dollars I left to my parent’s church, he inherited everything I had, everything my parents left me.  The checking and savings accounts.  Stocks and bonds.  Daddy’s 401K and the insurance money divided into multiple CDs.  The house I was forced to abandon, the day I officially died.

I pull back, breathing hard.  Focusing on Cam, I look into eyes filled with pain, and hunger, and questions that I can’t begin to answer.  “I’m sorry.”  I touch my forehead to his, hoping he won’t press me to expound or to explain.

“You okay?” Cam asks, his voice hoarse with longing.

“I think so.  And you?”

“I think so.”  He quirks his trademark grin.  “Give me two minutes in the bathroom and I’ll feel better.”

SOMETHING ELSE: THE THREE GRACES BOOK ONE

 

SOMETHING ELSE: THE THREE GRACES BOOK ONE

by Nia Farrell

Length 18,646 words.  Expanded second edition release date July 1, 2018.

Amazon e-book     

Goodreads (first edition) reviews          Goodreads (second edition) reviews  

Grace Murphy is the local psychic medium who dreams of her soulmates—Nico White, a bisexual American Indian musician, and J.T. Santiago, an ex-Navy SEAL and former cage fighter with PTSD on top of the guilt that he’s still carrying from other lifetimes that they’ve shared.  J.T. is a Dominant, but he’s never had a male submissive and Grace and Nico are a package deal.  It’s a learning curve for all of them, with J.T.’s initiation into MMF and MM relations and Grace’s introduction to BDSM.  With Grace’s yin, J.T’s yang, and Nico’s center balance, the three of them come together as far as J.T.’s PTSD will allow.  But forging a future will mean healing the past, however painful it might be.

An interracial paranormal MMF ménage BDSM erotic romance, this book is written as a standalone, but the epilogue ends with a teaser for the second book in the series.  Contains explicit sexual content, written for mature readers.  Ages 18+.

Reviewers: “It’s part paranormal, part BDSM, part love story, but all good….” “Imaginative and sexy” “A likable, strong heroine and two very hot heroes” “I am a strong believer in psychic abilities so for me this book was a HOME RUN! I loved the storyline and the sex – WOW – talk about HOT!!!” “Jam-packed with just about everything a reader can imagine (and fantasize about)!…Nico is…hotter than hot! …J.T. is a total alpha and literally makes the pages (and your panties) sizzle.

Excerpt:  SOMETHING ELSE by Nia Farrell

J.T. notices my submissive traits.  I keep my eyes down and let the two men lead the conversation, listening more than talking.  And I notice his Dominant traits.  He pays attention to my needs, making certain Cherry finally brings the glass of water that I ordered when we first got here and asking if my burger is cooked the way I like it.  He compliments my hair, my flowing New Age dress, and asks me the standard getting-to-know-you questions.

I tell him where I was born, where I went to school, where I work, where we live.

“You need to come out,” I tell him.  Please, please, please.  “It’s too cold for swimming, but on warm days, the fish still jump.  Or we could kayak.”  We have two, but a neighbor has several that he rents to campers, fishermen, and the occasional waterfowl hunter looking for a better way to retrieve downed birds.

Nico seconds the notion.  “Sure,” he says, lifting his beer in a toast.  “Bring your stuff.  Spend the weekend.  You can have my room.  I’ll take the couch.”  His choice of words reminds J.T. that, so far, we are only friends.

Hopefully, that’s about to change.

The warmth in Nico’s eyes makes me wonder if he’d rather share his room—his bed—with J.T. alone.  It would let the two men bond before adding me to the mix.  The trouble is, I can’t get a handle on J.T.  What’s he up for?

I need J.T. to want us.  Both of us.  I want what I’ve seen.  What I’ve dreamed about.  The three of us sharing a bed together, sometimes with me between, sometimes with Nico.  When we looked at properties, a master suite large enough for a California king was at the top of our list.  So far Nico’s been sleeping there alone, just him and those big, talented hands of his, fisting himself into oblivion.

But I can almost hear J.T.’s doubting Thomas.  The man doesn’t trust himself.  I sense the same darkness he does, the part of him that makes him afraid he’ll cross a line and hurt someone.

 Wounded spirit.  And not just in this life.

 Nothing that simple.

 Nothing that easy.

 Not that healing PTSD is ever easy.

Suddenly, I see him, struggling, hurting, lost.  Crippled with “soldier’s heart” in an alternate-reality past life that we shared, he’s also suffered shell shock in wars that he fought without us.  With the vision comes the knowledge of why we are here this time.  To help him mend.  To help him heal.  He’s been trying to dispel the darkness when he needs to embrace it.  Harness it.  Learn to live with his shadow self.

I can almost feel his collar on my neck and see the ink on Nico’s.

I exhale softly and commit.  “Or my room,” I offer, looking up when Nico stiffens.  It’s all he can do to remain silent and passive, but he’ll do it because he’s the beta male here.  Two alphas and me?  We’d end up tearing each other apart.

J.T. locks his gaze on mine and cocks his head, considering.  “You sure you’re ready for me?” he asks as he slides his hand beneath my skirt like a heat-seeking missile.  He has his answer when he finds my panties soaked.  “What about Nico?”

“I…We…”  Words are lost when he slides a finger between my pussy’s swollen lips and his thumb finds my clit.

“J.T.”  Nico makes sure he has his attention before dropping my bomb.  “She hasn’t been with one man, let alone two.  Not yet.  But it’s what she wants if you’re interested.”

Wow.  He didn’t just say that, did he?  My temperature raises two degrees thanks to the fucking full body blush I’ve got going on.

“Seriously?”  J.T. stops his finger where it’s at, gripped to the first joint by my exceptional tightness.  He looks at me, skeptical, his black eyes revealing nothing but the roiling heat of a man on the edge of conflagration.  He lets out the thinning leash that he’s struggling to hold onto and pushes into me until he’s knuckle-deep.  Pulling free, he brings his finger to my lips and inhales sharply when I suck my juices off him, knowing what he wants and giving it to him without one word being spoken.

“Fuck, yeah.”  He pulls out his wallet and tosses enough bills on the table to cover the three meals and tip.  “Let’s go.”

 

Look for SOMETHING DIFFERENT July 8, 2018 

and SOMETHING MORE July 15, 2018

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